


Repose

by WinryDontShoot



Series: Facets of My Reflection: Celeste Stories [2]
Category: Celeste (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Health, Gen, Peace, Reflection, found this on my computer and decided to post, happy crying, progress update on Madeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 08:49:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20386978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinryDontShoot/pseuds/WinryDontShoot
Summary: It hasn't been too long since Madeline climbed Celeste Mountain, but she's already doing better.





	Repose

Things aren't like they were before.  
Bad things keep happening. Bad things, tearing her back -- bad things, reminding her she's weak, and that she overthinks all of these stupid THINGS, still, even now -- this is what she's telling her to do, from where she lurks deep within Madeline's mind, sometimes not so deep, sometimes almost at the surface, but never quite --   
Madeline has bought a few mirrors. One on her door, ones for her purse. She still hasn't seen her again. She hasn't been surprised, she supposes. But still she's surrounded herself with reminders.  
Madeline might not be able to talk to her again. But she's doing what she would want. And that's the closest thing she gets.  
Madeline holes herself up over a piece of bad knitting, and puts the same song on loop, and lets herself do this. She lets herself think it over and over and over. This lopsided purple sweater she's making -- Badeline hates it, she would think, but Madeline reminds herself that doesn't matter -- it can turn out however it does -- that's not the progress she's trying to make here.  
Madeline also ventures deep into the woods. She thinks about these things there, too. Things she happened years ago -- things that still make her cry. Things that people she cares about have apologized to her for, already, and that she should forgive them for -- she climbs to the heights of great lonely hills, in hopes that the grudges could ever melt away --  
She suffers with Badeline, at long last. And everything she knows Badeline to be -- those things finally fall quiet and still inside her mind. They are still there, but now they are peaceful.  
She catches a glimpse of that person she's been hoping to see in the mirror so many times. Like a vision, she imagines her -- here with her, at this auburn outcropping of rock, sitting down to take repose from everything -- she sees her, the same Badeline who tore her apart, the same Badeline she fought against her entire life, the same Badeline who terrorized her, the same Badeline who said she deserved it, the same Badeline who dragged her to rock bottom and kept digging -- she's here now. She hasn't left. She sits, with knees hugged to her chest, and her hair tumbling down behind her and falling in her face, and no more tears, no more shaking, no more trembling and begging Madeline to turn back --  
She's just there. Resting. Gaze fixed quietly on the horizon. Reposing, apologetic -- Madeline's heart twinges.  
"Hey," Madeline says, softly.  
Badeline looks up with a surprised hesitation. "You can see me? Am -- am I--"  
"You're not tangible," Madeline says, shaking her head. "But I see you."  
Badeline was looking at her limbs, feeling her hands -- and to hear Madeline's disconfirmation, she falters. She shoots a glance up to Madeline. Madeline sees the tightening of her lips, and the way she shrinks back and recedes into her shoulders --  
"It's okay," Madeline says. "It's okay, to be afraid of being looked at -- I get scared of being around people, too. But that's what it takes, to find people who love you. It must get very lonely to be so invisible."  
"I-- yeah, but -- if I'm invisible-- I'm safe. We're safe-- but-- I know that isn't what you want."  
"It isn't what you want, either. We want all the same things. You do keep me safe -- thank you for protecting me."  
"I--"  
Badeline startles. Madeline has reached forward, and pulled her into her arms. Madeline feels Badeline twitching, before she lets up and slumps forward into Madeline's soft grasp.

Madeline opens her eyes. She pictures many scenes like that now. Is it the same as talking to her?  
She's glad she met Badeline. Even if it's not exactly the same to talk to her this way, the visualization helps her.  
And it lets her know that, wherever Badeline is, no matter how passive and quiet she is at times, under Madeline's front she's doing better.

Madeline is still facing a lot, but some of the worst of it lets up.  
She is processing the bad, the trauma, the things she can't stop thinking about, and never could --   
She doesn't put on a front when she knows she can't. She cancels plans. She does less on the days that she knows it takes everything out of her. Remarkably, she's not a shut-in anymore (she keeps herself from drinking, and she tries to keep out of arguments on the internet) but she finds places where she can lie down and get some rest, when she can afford to and the noise of the outside world just seems like too much.  
This is Badeline. This is her doing. She knows what part of her that is -- the one that decides to isolate her and self-loathe -- the one that second-guesses, and worries, and takes so very much out of her -- and Madeline recognizes this isn't what she wants in the long run. She wants to get better than this.  
But it's better than how it was before. Madeline is splayed out across her bed -- one earbud in, one earbud out -- she keeps staring at the Messenger notification on her laptop -- if she opened Theo's message, he'd know that she read it, and when he sees no response, how is she going to explain that to him? He's going to worry, and Madeline isn't sure if she wants that attention right now…  
It is better than it was, for Madeline realizes this is the very worst of her worry and loathing. She has shut herself in, alone -- and the voice inside her head is still running her through this, reminding her to try and not trouble Theo, even though she knows he wants to care about her, in any way that he can -- but the voice is not a scream. It is not a cry of torment, slamming her against the wall. It is not grappling her and shoving her to the floor and saying she deserves it. Madeline is hurting, but she knows it to not be self-loathing, and it is certainly not self-harm. The voice is fretful, and afraid, but it is kind -- just the way Madeline knows her to be at heart.  
"I forgive you," she says softly, to herself.  
And even with tears flowing gently from her eyes, the peace overtakes her -- and Madeline is asleep.


End file.
